


Closing the Circle

by oooknuk



Series: New Paths [3]
Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Harm to Animals, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 22:25:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10751028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oooknuk/pseuds/oooknuk
Summary: Muldoon needs catching





	Closing the Circle

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All characters you recognize will belong to Alliance. No infringement of copyright intended. Not for profit. 
> 
> Warnings: AU, m/m, violence 
> 
> Note: This is a sequel to my AU story, 'Making amends', and is a retelling of 'Call of the Wild'. In this AU, Ray Vecchio never went undercover, and Ray Kowalski never worked as Fraser's partner. Snatches of dialogue bear more than a passing resemblance to that in episodes of Due South, not only 'Call of the Wild'. 
> 
> I've had to be creative with the geography here, because, um, Mr. Gross was similarly inventive in COTW. The end of that story took place (1) on a fjord (2) near trees (3) close to Franklin Bay and (4) near some sort of mountain range. The problem with that is that any fjords close enough to Franklin Bay to be feasible, and the bay itself, are above the tree line, and nowhere near a mountain range worth the candle. What I've described in this story is my best shot at locating it, but I've never been to the area and know little about it - I expect 99% of this to be utter bollocks. 
> 
> My thanks again to Sasha.

I was back in Chicago for six months before things started to unravel - with my track record, that was doing good. Not everything went sour - the agency Beth Botrelle and me set up, B& K Investigations, was doing okay, partly thanks to some contacts Lieutenant Welsh down at the 2-7 gave me, but mainly because Beth did some newspaper interviews after her appeal got heard. She laid it on good about how she was starting her new life and career as a PI, and was working with her dashing savior, i.e. me, the gimp ex-cop, Ray Kowalski. It caught people's imaginations - she figured we were newsworthy anyway so we may as well use it. Smart lady, my partner. She was getting her life back in order in lots of ways - she reconciled with her family, and even her lousy husband's parents stopped running to the press every five minutes to tear her into pieces. After the appeal, they had to accept the truth - that their son had been a corrupt cop who'd killed himself to avoid going to prison. He hadn't meant for his wife to take the rap for murder, or face the death penalty, but the fucker didn't exactly do anything to avoid it either.

As for me and Fraser, we started good and went down hill. Once he admitted how he felt, which was how I felt too, we started sleeping together - and I do mean _sleeping._ We had sex a few times, just mutual hand jobs after we'd gotten carried away kissing on the sofa, or if he was feeling me up in bed and we got hard. Sometimes, I'd get carried away, because he was just so damn hot when he started stroking me, and licking my shoulder, and I'd rub off against him. He really liked that, and the way his big, pale skinned body would move and shimmy under me drove me crazy. But we didn't usually go that far. It was a relationship built on friendship and comfort, not raging passion.  Petting and cuddling was easy, meant we didn't have to start getting into who'd done what and where.

I think he was a bit nervous of me because of Stella, and being married for so long. I was wary of committing to someone whose sole aim in life seemed to be to move back to Canada just as soon as the RCMP forgot who exactly it was that turned in one of their own bad apples. We were happy enough for a while. He eased the ache in me over Stella until it was just a dull throb, and he liked having me for company. But nearly as soon as his ribs healed up and the bruises completely faded after being beaten up by Willie Warfield's goons, he started to point his nose North. I found him staring into space on a regular basis, and he'd disappear for hours with Dief, walking in the woods, I guessed. Even Vecchio didn't have a clue where he went - or what was really bothering him. But we could have gone on all right if a pretty lady Mountie called Maggie Mackenzie hadn't blown into town.

I should've known something was wrong when he didn't even tell me she was staying at the Consulate. Normally he'd tell me every boring detail of his day if I asked - but not this. I only found out about her when I dropped into the 2-7 to surprise him with a lunch invitation, and found him, this gorgeous blonde chick and Vecchio hunched over the computer. I had to wait for Vecchio to introduce us, and I could tell by his face something was up. Fraser was downright rude, and my attempting to be polite to this cute gal got turned into a 'let's see how dumb we can make Kowalski look' session. Even Vecchio was surprised, and frowned as he listened to Fraser put me down time after time to her. Fraser even shoved me out of the way as I tried to hold a door open for them, and turned me down flat for lunch without even pretending to be nice about it. I stomped off, wondering what pod person had replaced my Mountie.

Things got worse after that - he didn't come home, and I heard he stayed at the consulate from Vecchio, who called me to let me know that our pretty lady Mountie had been leading them a merry dance. In reality she was suspended from the RCMP and was looking for the men who killed her husband - one of whom turned up deceased after she was seen talking to him. Fraser tried to cover for her for his own unknown reasons and got _himself_ suspended. Oh, it all ended okay, with her capturing the murderers and handing them over to the authorities. It also turned out she was Fraser's half-sister that he never knew anything about. Vecchio came over to our apartment to bitch about all this, about how Fraser had been ready to throw away his career over a woman again and how he, Vecchio, was going old and gray worrying about his loony partner. I knew the feeling. I needed to talk to Fraser bad - but he didn't come home that night either.

I was packing up for a trip the next day, going out of town for a week to carry out surveillance for a client when I heard him come in. He didn't come to say hello and disappeared into his bedroom - the spare room which he took back over for his books and things. I finished what I was doing and came and stood in the doorway - he was lying on the bed with one of his father's journals on his chest. He looked at me as if he didn't know what I was doing there.

"Busy couple of days?" I asked, casually.

"Yes."

"You didn't come home last night." He looked at me as if it was none of my beeswax. "Maggie gone?"

"Yes. I've just put her in a taxi."

"You didn't think she might like to come to dinner so I could get to know your sister a little better?"

"And why would she do that, Ray?" His tone was near as dammit to outright rude.

"Oh, I dunno, Fraser. She's a pretty gal. Maybe me and her might have something." Two could play this game.

"I very much doubt she would be interested in you." He sat up and his stare was insolent, daring me to snap.

"She was checking me out pretty careful for someone who wasn't interested."

"Perhaps she was merely cataloguing your ...."

"My what, Fraser?" I asked angrily

"Deficiencies?" His eyes flickered over my leg and my cane.

"You bastard," I spat.

"No, actually, I'm the only member of my family who appears not to be." He lay back down and ignored me. I stared at him, wondering what the fuck was going on. I wasn't getting anywhere here, and if I stayed, I'd end up punching him.

I grabbed my bag, my keys, gun, computer and camera and then returned to the doorway. He looked at me with what he probably thought was a bored expression. "I'm leaving on stakeout," I said.

I turned to leave. "How long will you be gone?" I heard him ask.

"Who the hell cares?"

He didn't answer. I slammed the door.

I spent the night out of town in the cheap hotel I was going to use all week. I thought about calling Vecchio and asking him what he thought was happening, but I figured he was probably getting the raw edge of Fraser's tongue too - I couldn't see it was anything to do with me. I was mad as hell, but I was also worried - this was so not Fraser, and I was thinking that he might be finally losing it. He was pretty wound up, and didn't let things out much. He was homesick too - could someone die of homesickness, I wondered? I hoped when I got back in a week, he might have sorted a few things out. If not, I guessed one of us was going to be looking for somewhere else to live.

I kept in touch with Beth by mobile and email. The surveillance - following an employee our client thought was pulling a scam on his company by using their vehicles and equipment for his own purpose - gave me much too much time to think and made me bad-tempered. Just as well I was working on my own. I hated these out of town jobs, hated staying in hotels, and I was looking forward to my own bed when I got back, with or without Fraser in it. I pulled an allnighter, made my reports, emailed back all my files and data to Beth and drove back into town early - I was back at the apartment by eight a.m. I figured he'd be out and I could have a nap but he was in the living room, as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

"Finished the surveillance?" he asked casually, making up a pack on the floor.

"Yeah - what the hell are you doing, Fraser, and why aren't you at work?" I was too concerned to care about the fact I should be mad at him.

"I've taken a leave of absence. I'm going to Canada."

"Why?"

He looked at me coolly. "That's none of your concern, Ray."

"Well, are you coming back? Should I rent out your room?" I tried not to let him get to me.

"Do whatever you want - I can find accommodation elsewhere if I come back and there is no place for me." Okay, that did it. I walked over to him and yanked him up by his arms. I knew he could throw me off if he wanted, but I needed some answers.

"Damn you, Fraser. I'm not the enemy here. I thought I was your friend, even if you don't want me to be your lover any more. So tell me what's going on, and when you're leaving." He went to twist out of my grip and I shook him. That made him angry.

"Let go of me, Ray." I dropped my hand. "Now, since you asked so _politely,_ I'll tell you. I'm going to Canada to find a man called Holloway Muldoon. My flight's tonight at 7.30. Enough?'

"Who's this Muldoon, and don't tell me it's none of my concern again or I'll kick you in the head."

I could tell he was thinking about saying it anyway. "Holloway Muldoon is a criminal I thought died thirty years ago, but who is apparently alive and on the loose."

"So - let the RCMP do it. Why do you have to chase him on your own time and at your own expense?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not? Fraser - you know all my secrets. What's so bad about this guy? Why did you think he was dead?"

He stalked into the kitchen and noisily put the kettle on to boil, clattering mugs and slamming cupboard doors. "Where's Dief?" I asked, noticing for the first time a total absence of furface.

"He's staying with Constable Turnbull at the Consulate. I didn't know when you were returning and I can't delay matters to arrange his transport north."

I went into the kitchen and stood leaning on the fridge, watching him not watching me, staring into the sink. "Is this something to do with Maggie Mackenzie?"

"No," he said quietly. The water boiled. "Do you want some coffee?"

I wanted some sleep but this was the first polite thing he'd said since I walked in. "Yeah - that'd be good."

He made me a cup of instant, found me some Smarties to go in it and handed me the cup. "You look tired," he said gently.

"I am. Ben," I said, putting my hand on his wrist, "please, tell me what's going on. I only want to help."

He looked away, but only to pick up his tea cup. "Holloway Muldoon was my father's good friend, but he was also a criminal, using the friendship to divert suspicion from himself. In the end, my father tracked him to Six Mile Canyon. A struggle ensued, and Muldoon fell to his death there. Or so we believed."

"And now?"

He drank from his tea before answering. "In the past week six men have been found dead - four in Canada and two here in Chicago. The men in Canada were carrying cylinders of poison gas. The two men here were FBI agents. Sergeant Frobisher believes that the cases bear all the marks of Muldoon, and I'm inclined to believe him."

"I still don't understand why you have to go after him on your own? What has he got to do with you, apart from the fact your dad supposedly killed him?"

"Holloway Muldoon is the man who murdered my mother."

Shit, oh shit. Fraser's eyes were full of pain. I put my cup down and put my arms around him - he was stiff at first but then relaxed. I heard the thunk of his cup hitting the counter too. "I"m sorry, Ray. I don't know what's been going on with me these last few weeks." He sounded confused and hurt and I couldn't not forgive him.

"It's okay, it's okay. You only found out last week about your mom?"

"Yesterday." Christ on a crutch. "Do you see now? I have to find him, bring him in."

"I get that, Fraser, totally. But I'm coming with you."

"No," he said firmly, but not harshly. He pushed away from me and looked into my eyes. "It's too dangerous and you know nothing about the terrain. There's also your weak leg to consider."

"Fuck my weak leg, Fraser - I've been working on it, I can walk as long and hard as you can. Danger's no problem, and you can show me the terrain."

"No. It's not acceptable, Ray. You're not a cop any longer, you have no duty here, only risk."

"I have a duty to you."

"No."

"Ben, I'm gonna be on that flight with you whether you want me to be or not, and I'll follow you on foot if I have to. You need back up. This guy's killed six people, you said. He's dangerous. And you're not thinking clearly, you said that yourself. If you won't take me, take Vecchio."

"Ray's in Florida for two weeks. But I can't take you - you have no idea what you're getting into."

"Wouldn't be the first time. Fraser - come on, please. I promise I won't hold you back..."

"I don't care about that, Ray, I'm only concerned with putting you in harm's way. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you."

"So you still love me, huh?"

"Why would you think I didn't?"

I looked at him. Did he really not remember? "You were pretty rude the last time I was here."

He dropped his eyes, embarrassed. "I need to apologize for that. I ... I'm ashamed of myself." He looked it, too.

"So we're still partners?"

He lifted his eyes and looked at me under his lashes. "If you'll have me. I'm sorry, Ray."

"Don't sweat it. We can talk about it up north."

He couldn't let that pass. "Ray - you are not going, and that's all there is to say."

"Fraser - I _am_ going, so get used to the idea. You are not going after a homicidal maniac on your own. It's just stupid. Besides, Vecchio'd kill me if anything happened to you while he was on vacation."

"I can't change your mind?"

"Not a hope in hell." I grinned at him, and he finally admitted defeat.

"Okay. There's a lot for you to get ready, and if you're not ready to leave at four I'll have to leave without you. It's bad enough that I can't get an earlier flight."

The first thing I had to take care of, after I called Beth and gave her the bad news that I was going to be out of the office for a while, was to get equipped. Fraser was planning to hook up with his buddy, Quinn, and get dogs, a sled, and other equipment he didn't have down here, but I needed basics like thermal clothing, boots, gloves, an Arctic rated sleeping bag - that sort of thing. I wasn't quite as inexperienced as Fraser made out - hell I could skate, and rock climb as good as him, and snow and cold didn't bother me that much. The leg was going to be something of a problem, but then he admitted that this Frobisher guy limped worse than I did. I couldn't take my gun, but Quinn was going to lend Fraser a couple of rifles. He gave me a list and sent me off to the camping store where a credit card and a very helpful clerk got me fitted out in just over an hour. I bought a decent hiking backpack too. I changed a thousand American dollars into Canadian, and split it with Fraser - emergency cash. We had lunch and then he went over the information that he had - not much. Frobisher suspected that there was a shady deal going down up North but apart from the two dead feebees, the Chicago PD had nothing to go on. "Fraser, I got to ask - you catch this guy, what are you planning on doing with him?"

He looked at me without a trace of emotion. "I'm going to bring him to justice and make him face the weight of the law for his crimes."

"We'll need your cuffs then," was all I said to that. Personally, I didn't see how we were even going to find this guy, let alone bring him in, but all I cared about was getting Fraser up there and back in one piece.

The plan was that we would fly to Quinn's new village, where everyone got moved after they built a dam on the old one. From there, we would take a dog sled sixty miles to where Frobisher had his detachment training RCMP recruits, and near where the four dead guys had been found. Hopefully he would have up to date information about where Muldoon was, and what he was doing. "There's a good chance you'll never find him, you know that, don't you?" I said.

"I have to try." I got that.

We were ready by four, thanks to Fraser's being so damn organized. We checked the apartment, turned the heating onto maintenance so nothing would freeze completely, and made sure everything was secure. Fraser'd already paid two months rent in advance, and my neighbor was going to look after the turtle and collect the mail. The taxi called to say they were downstairs. He was about to go down when I made him stop. "Fraser, one thing."

"Ray, we have to go."

"No, there's time for this." I gave him a long kiss and a hug. "Good luck to us."

"Indeed," he smiled. "Let's go."

 

* * *

Don't like flying although the plane was better than most. The in-flight movie sucked but the food was good. Fraser was absorbed in a book.

"What are you reading?" I asked finally, bored, tired and irritable.

"My dad's journal."

I looked at the crabbed handwriting. "Guess there were a few things he didn't tell you."

His eyes went funny, like he was looking into the distance. "Yes. There were."

"Maggie's mom?"

"That was one. Ray - about last week, I'm so sorry. I suppose I was jealous, which I had no right to be ..."

"That's kinda flattering."

That made him smile. "But the main thing was that my father deceived me. That he did that, then deprived me of the gift of a sister for all these years ... I find it hard to forgive him."

"He's dead, Fraser. There's nothing you can do but forgive him."

"He may be dead but he's still having an impact on my life."

"Did you know your Mom was murdered?"

"No," he said in a tight voice. "My father always told me she died in an accident."

"Do you know why Muldoon killed her?"

"Buck doesn't know. There's nothing in my father's journals at all about it. I remember him grieving but nothing else."

"He should have told you when you grew up."

"Yes, he should have." Again, he was staring into the distance like he was talking to someone else. He shook himself. "Are you still sure about this, Ray? It's not too late - you can still back out. You really can't imagine how deadly the landscape can be. Icefields are like minefields - fissures abound. Hypothermia is a constant risk."

"Are you saying I can't cut it, Fraser? Because I can."

"I'm sure you can - or you could, given time. It's just, well, we'll be moving so fast ...."

"And me with my deficiencies will slow you down, is that what you're thinking?"

"I didn't mean that comment and I apologize for it. No - I don't think you'll slow me down, I just ...."

"Fraser, look. For me, this is an adventure - okay, it's serious, I'm taking it totally seriously, but the risk is part of the attraction. But I got to do this, just the same as you have. If I have to explain it, then I guess you and me ain't as close as I thought we were."

"We are, and I do understand. I love you, Ray," he said quietly, his voice going real deep and sexy.

"You got a funny way of showing it."

"It runs in the family," he said bitterly.

We arrived in Edmonton at ten - Fraser had booked a hotel at the airport so we only had a five minute taxi ride after we cleared Immigration - but it was still past eleven when we finally got into our room. I was beyond tired - I hadn't slept more than two hours in the last two days and I was sure that I would be out the second I hit the pillow. Wrong - I was too wired. I lay as still as I could because Fraser went off like a light like he always did, but I guess I must have shifted one too many times because he woke up again. "Ray, you have to rest. Tomorrow will be a very tiring day."

"I'm not lying here doing the pogo-pogo, Fraser."

He sighed and sat up. "Roll on your front."

"Why?"

"If you can't trust me to give you a massage, Ray, you won't be able to trust me in a snowfield, now, will you?" he said drily.

"Oh." I did as he asked. He got up and rummaged in his small pack and came back with massage oil. "Why did you bring that?" I wondered.

"It's good for dry skin."

He straddled my backside - I could feel his dick nestling between my butt cheeks but he wasn't hard. Neither was I - I was too tense. I felt his strong hands slick and warm on my shoulders, eating into the tight muscles there. "My goodness, Ray, you must be in some pain," he said, sounding like a school nurse.

"It's the bad leg partly, my back gets thrown out from walking weird. Stakeouts and planes don't do much for your posture either."

"Mmmm," he said, concentrating on a particularly hard knot which hurt when he dug into it, but felt great afterwards. I was slowly melting, all the tension dropping right out of me. He kept right on going down my back, my butt, thighs, even my feet. I couldn't move when he was done. He just covered me up with the blankets, kissed the top of my head and that's the last thing I remember until we got our wake up call at 6.30.

We ate breakfast at the airport, waiting for the 8.00 flight. We didn't get to Inuvik until 1.00, stopping at Yellowknife, and once on the tarmac, we had to run like hell to the small Aklak Air plane which would fly us to Paulatuk. The pilot was scheduled to leave at 12.00, but they held the flight up specially for us. When I asked Fraser how he'd swung that, he just said he asked. Later it came out the pilot had gone to school with him. Canadians.

Quinn met us at the little airport in Paulatuk. Fre-eak it, it was cold. I mean, I knew it would be cold, but this ... I couldn't let Fraser see how shocked I was. I thought we'd wait until next morning to set out, but Fraser said that there was still enough daylight for us to get forty or fifty kilometers towards Frobisher's camp. We were going to have to dog sled it up half way up to Cape Parry to meet up with him. The dead Russians were found on a frozen lake up there, and Frobisher thought that it was as good place as any to start searching for Muldoon.

Quinn took us to see the dogs which Fraser said were great. He and Quinn spent half an hour huddled together talking maps and equipment while I got friendly with the animals we were going to be trusting our skinny asses to for the next however many days. Finally Fraser and Quinn were done. We had to load the sled and test the harnesses and equipment. Fraser gave me a crash course in sled handling from the passenger's point of view, and map reading. I was basically ballast, and the gunman. Quinn wished us luck. "Do you believe he's alive?" I heard Fraser ask Quinn.

He shrugged. "Who knows? The Territories are a big place, and people don't ask too many questions. Your father made a big mistake if he didn't kill him - he needed killing by the sound of it."

Fraser just grunted in agreement. Then we were off.

I always thought dog sledding looked kind of fun - let me tell you, it's not. It's uncomfortable, tiring and makes your ass feel like it's been run over by a bus. Fraser had the hardest part to handle, naturally, but I had to be on the ball too. It's a fast way to travel, and that bit was cool. Unfortunately, so was everything else. I've never been so fucking cold in my life. We stopped for ten minutes after a couple of hours. Fraser was worried about me, checking everything for frostbite and making me drink as much as I could because he said the air was much drier than I was used to. Dehydration was a problem just as bad as hypothermia, he said. Didn't seem to affect him - he talked all the time, teaching, explaining. I've never felt so alive. It was like I'd waited my whole life to do this, and I could see why Fraser was so damn homesick all the time.

"When will we make Frobisher's camp?'

"Tomorrow afternoon sometime."

"We'll be sleeping out?" I asked, trying not to shiver too hard.

He looked at me pityingly. "Yes, Ray. And since I expect the detachment building to be small, unless you enjoy bunking with a lot of strange men in cramped conditions, we'll be more comfortable under canvass there, too."

Oh joy. Oh well, I'd insisted on coming.

At sunset, he stopped in the middle of a lot of nothing and said this was it. I fed the dogs - at least that was something I could do - while he raised the tent and got supper heating. No trees around - we were in the middle of tundra, with a lot of frozen water and not a lot else around. On one side of the peninsula was Darnley Bay, on the other was Franklin Bay. Over our meal he told me about Franklin and his lost ships, and some of the other explorers whose names dotted Canada. It wasn't the place to sit by a campfire - we had to use a little propane stove since there was no firewood, and the second the food was hot and he'd filled thermoses with hot water, he put the stove out and ordered us into the tent for shelter. He suggested we shared sleeping bags which suited me just fine. We leaned on each other to eat and when I was done I got down under the covers, still fully dressed except for my boots. "You're cold," he said.

"No shit, Fraser - what did you say it was?"

"Minus 30 - minus 22 in Fahrenheit." Fuck. "Ray, let me see your hands."

"They're fine, I checked them. I just need to stay under the covers for a while. Come and lie next to me."

He wrapped himself around me and I noticed he was checking out my nose and my ears. "Do you need to go?" he asked.

"Go? Oh, go. Yeah, damn. Give me the torch."

I had the world's fastest whizz and buried it under the snow like he told me. We had polar bears to think about, apart from everything else, although the dogs would warn us, we hoped. I dived back in and he made his own comfort call while I tried to get warm again. Actually, if I'm honest, it wasn't too bad in the tent, and once Fraser joined me, it was almost toasty. "Well, this is nice," he said cheerfully, turning the torch off.

"You're a freak," I muttered. He wrapped his arms around me. "Fraser?"

"Mmmm?"

"How did you figure out Maggie was your sister?"

I felt his arms tighten briefly. "Constable Turnbull found the notices of her birth and her supposed father's death were inconsistent."

"Yeah, I got that bit - but it doesn't follow that your dad was her dad."

"She, uh, told me." Now that was Fraser being evasive if ever I heard it.

"Vecchio said you told her."

"Ray, I think we should wait until we get back to Chicago to discuss this."

"Why, Fraser? What's the big deal? Was it in your dad's journals? But how come you didn't see that before - I mean, you read them all the time ..."

"Ray - please. I can't explain this to you."

I rolled over on top of him. "Uh uh, Fraser. That don't work. You said I had to trust you. How can I trust you when you lie to me?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

He sighed and rolled me off him as easily as if I was a baby. "I think this is a mistake, Ray."

"Jesus, Fraser, how complicated can it be?"

He cocked his head as if he was listening. "All right, but on your own head ..." I got the strangest feeling he wasn't talking to me. "Give me your hands, Ray. Now, concentrate on the back wall of the tent. "

"What am I ...?"

"Shhh. Concentrate."

I stared into the darkness until my eyes watered. Then there was a flicker and I heard a man say, "Turn the torch on for heaven's sake, Benton, I'm not a glow worm." Fraser switched on the torch.

I jumped back, letting go of Fraser's hands and the guy vanished. "Jesus H. Christ!" I yelped, trying to get away from him and the thing. "There's a ... what the fuck was that?"

Fraser grabbed me. "Settle down, Ray, calm yourself. That was my father."

"You're telling me I just saw a ghost?"

"Uh, not exactly. I'm not sure what he is, actually. Dad, would you mind?" The old guy came back. He was wearing furs and a parka like we were. I guess he did look a little bit like Fraser but a lot more wrinkly.

"You're kidding me, right? This is some Jedi mind trick - no way can I be seeing a dead person."

"Oh yes you are, Yank. I've been watching you for nearly two years now." He sounded smug.

"Watching me?" I squeaked. "Fraser, does he mean ...? Oh my god, that is really sick!"

"He assures me he is the soul of discretion, Ray - something I sometimes have cause to doubt."

Something told me Fraser was pissed at his dad. He wasn't the only one. "Hey, old timer, you know you really suck as a father?"

"Ray!"

"Well he does - where the hell do you get off hiding things like Maggie from your son, and Muldoon? What kind of guy are you?"

"Benton, I didn't come here to be insulted. I was only trying to help."

"Ray - Dad, please, both of you. I was only trying to explain to Ray how I knew ... certain things. Nothing more."

I suddenly had a thought. "Fraser - if you can see him, how come I can't see Stella? Is she there? Can she hear me?"

"Ray ...."

"Oh yes, Yank, she can hear and see you. But you can't see her, it's not allowed."

"Stella? Honey, can you hear me? Please let me see you, Stella, I miss you - come on, just one time!" I guess I got pretty hysterical, and Fraser had to hold onto me with all his weight to stop me trying to get to the old guy who was still staring at me with pity in his eyes.

"Ray, please, don't, you can't see her," Fraser said, lying on top of me.

"Why?" I yelled at him, tears pouring down my face but I didn't care. "It's not fair, I never got to say good bye, or that I loved her or anything!"

"She knows, she knows, Ray," he whispered in my ear, trying to calm me, but I couldn't bear it. All this time, she was there, and I didn't know it. "Dad, please - do something."

"What, Benton - there are rules...."

"Stella!" I screamed. Fraser nearly let me go then.

"Okay. Listen, Yank, quiet down. She's got a message for you."

"I want to see her."

The ghost sounded irritated. "You can't, I don't know why but you can't. She wants you to know that she forgives you for following her, and that she loved you with all her heart. And that she was sorry about the bomb."

"You're making that up," I yelled at him. "That's stuff anyone would know. Ask... ask her about the tattoo. Get her to tell you about the tattoo."

Fraser's dad look annoyed but he turned and appeared to be speaking to someone just next to him. I strained and strained but I couldn't hear or see anything. Fraser let me sit up but he kept rubbing my back, whispering to me for me to take it easy like I was a spooked horse or something, but all I cared about was that the woman I still loved was right there and I couldn't even talk to her. Finally his dad came back. "She said you got it when you were seventeen and bought your first car. She said she didn't speak to you for a whole month, she was so mad. Satisfied?"

"Stella," I whispered. "Oh Stella, honey, can you really hear me? I love you, Stella. I miss you all the time. I'd wish I could go with you sometimes." Fraser's arms tightened around me hard enough to hurt when I said that.

"She says you can't, Ray," his father said. "You mustn't if you ever want to see her again. But she'll wait for you, however long it takes. You will see her again, she promises."

"Stella? Don't go - please, stay here, I want to talk to you."

"Yank, you need your rest, and so does Benton. You've got a criminal to catch."

"Fuck Muldoon. Stella!"

"I think I'd better go, Benton," and I felt Fraser nod at his dad's words. The ghost disappeared.

I yelled for her until I was nearly sick with the pain of it and finally Fraser slapped me hard a couple of times, then held me for ages while I sobbed. It wasn't fair, wasn't fair. "You knew," I accused him when I could speak.

He kept stroking my hair and kissing me gently. "Yes, he told me. Ray - if I thought it would have helped, I'd have told you sooner. But it's not the natural way of things. People die, the ones left behind grieve and move on."

"You get to see your Dad," I said bitterly, feeling betrayed.

"I never asked for it or wanted it, and to be perfectly honest, until a few days ago, even he didn't really know why."

"Muldoon. It's because he's back."

"He thinks so, yes. Unfinished business."

"I miss her so much, Fraser. There isn't a day goes by that I don't think about her and miss her like hell."

"I know, I know. I'm so very sorry, Ray. But at least you know she loves you still and is watching over you."

"But if I could have seen her ...."

"It would never be enough, Ray. You'd want more and more and it would drive you insane. If you ever want to stop grieving, you have to move on. You can still love her, you're not betraying her."

His words didn't mean much to me, and in the end he just held me and let me cry myself to sleep.

 

* * *

Ray quietened after a while, and drifted off, exhausted from the extreme emotions my ill-considered action - and my father's unwelcome intervention - caused him. I was right long ago when I decided not to tell him about my father, and I will rue forever that I gave into his pleading. And I had one more reason to be angry with Dad, which I didn't need. Ray's distress was so painful to watch, but underneath my concern from him was an unworthy, selfish worry about how he seemed unable to move on from his feelings for Stella. I knew that this was the one of the principal things inhibiting our relationship - the insecurity I felt had led to my hateful words to him after Maggie left, trying, I suppose, to drive him away before he walked away of his own accord. Childish, and foolish, and just when he had proved himself worthy of far greater affection than I was able to give by his loyalty and concern for me, I had to become the cause of such unspeakable pain for him.

I could hear his breaths hitching, his nose still blocked a little from his crying. I stroked his hair, now longer than he'd worn it while he worked with the police, and still unruly. He sounded as if he was sleeping deeply, and I hoped his dreams were pleasant. He needed the rest - I knew how tired he was, how tired he'd been before we'd started out, and I again wondered what on earth I had been thinking to agree to this. Quinn had taken me aside and torn a discreet strip off me for dragging Ray up here, and saying he believed I was bringing him to his death, which was a touch melodramatic even by Quinn's standards. I had no doubt Ray's heart and courage were up to the challenge, but we were in one of the most extreme environments on earth - and he was totally unprepared.

My body clock behaved reliably and woke me before the predawn. I climbed carefully out of the sleeping bag, making sure Ray was still well covered and checked the dogs before starting breakfast. The water for coffee was just boiling and I had heated up some instant oatmeal for our breakfast when he emerged, scruffy and handsome in the firelight. He looked at peace, to my surprise, a faint smile on his face. "Hi," I said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Hmmm. Coffee." I shoved a well-sweetened cup into his hands and he drank from it greedily - I would have to keep an eye on his fluid intake, since he seemed so thirsty. I watched him carefully. He seemed self-absorbed this morning, disinclined to talk, and I let him be. He had a lot of things to think about.

He helped me harness the dogs - he was a natural with them, which was a blessing. "Fraser?"

"Yes, Ray."

"I, uh, had a dream about Stella last night. She talked to me." I stopped and looked at him but he didn't seem distressed. "She told me about her will, and the insurance, and said she'd been watching me in the hospital. She said she'd been looking over me all this time." His voice became wistful.

"It sounds a lovely dream."

"Do you think it was real?"

"I think the Stella you spoke to was the real person, Ray. I truly believe that."

He smiled at me, and I took the time to give him a hug and to kiss him on the forehead. He leaned into me. I was glad that he had found a little peace from his dream, whatever the source.

We got to Buck Frobisher's detachment a little after three. The building was small, barely enough to hold the ten recruits that Buck was training. He welcomed us warmly - a little too warmingly as well. "That's HazMat level flatulence," Ray whispered to me and I had to agree with him. I could tell Buck was still eating moose hock, which always did play havoc with his digestion. Over tea and bannocks he gave us the updated information. They were still no closer to discovering exactly what Muldoon was up to, although new intelligence from Chicago suggested that an old adversary of Ray Vecchio and myself, the Fathers of Confederation, may have been the customers for the unspecified deal. Inspector Thatcher had relayed the information that a plane suspected to be used by one Cyrus Bolt, a cousin of the infamous Bolt brothers, had filed a flight plan from Chicago to Tuktoyuktuk. It had disappeared over Franklin Bay, which meant that Buck's suspicions that Muldoon's centre of operations were likely to be close at hand were probably correct.

Buck gave me the coordinates of the area where the plane had disappeared - it would take Ray and me a whole day to get there. Inspector Thatcher and Constable Turnbull had apparently left Chicago that morning and would meet Buck with the latest information. In the meantime, Buck was going to see if he could get reinforcements to the area. He, the Inspector, Turnbull and what force they could muster would meet us at a rendezvous point in a day and a half. I told him we could not wait for them - Muldoon might escape, and who knew what nefarious plot he had dreamt up. We also could travel faster than a team of men, so we had a better chance of intercepting him. If Ray and I located Muldoon first, we would attempt to arrest him, but at the very least, we could keep an eye on his activities.

Buck's recruits provided us with a hot meal - fortunately not one of Buck's own culinary inventions - and I could see that Ray had benefited from the break and the warmth. He was standing up better than I had hoped - at least I had been able to spare his leg thus far - but there was always the risk of overconfidence, and we had by no means reached the most hazardous part of our task. Buck invited us to sleep in the detachment building but Ray declined with rather too much haste for politeness. I wasn't sorry to agree with him - quarters really were cramped and I'd become spoiled by my time in Ray's apartment. We set up our tent a few yards clear of the building and we were allowed the luxury of a campfire. Buck joined us as we were drinking tea and talking about the next day's route. Ray retreated into the tent to let us talk, which I appreciated. Buck sat on the log next to me and accepted a mug of tea, then gave me a service revolver and ammunition to add to the rifles Quinn had given us. He put his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry about your mother, Ben."

"He never told me ... Dad, you know... about her."

"He was half mad with grief, Benton. He did what he knew."

"He became a murderer."

"Muldoon laughed at him, laughed in his face. Don't be too harsh on him."

It was good advice, but I had not yet reached the place of peace that Ray had found. My father spoke to me, not in dreams, but in my waking thoughts, and as yet, I could not forgive him.

Buck and I talked for half an hour or so, but I was aware that we had a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and I was tired, so Ray must have been more so. I said good night to Buck, wishing I would have the benefit of his wise head with us to face Muldoon but he could not drag trainees with him without other officers or backup, nor leave them to their own devices to come with me. I was a Mountie. I was fully capable of doing this on my own - and even more so with the help of my loyal friend.

Said loyal friend was already asleep when I came quietly into the tent. I wrapped myself around him and he snuffled a little, curling into my arms. I kissed his face before covering us up, hoping that we would both be free of troublesome dreams.

We set off at dawn - there was no time to waste. We were well provisioned by Buck, and as well briefed as we could be. We would have to get to the far side of Franklin Bay, traveling over the sea ice. There would be no cover other than that provided by ice bergs and the like, and the risk was that we would be seen before we could come upon them. Our objective was a fjord that led down from the Horton river into the bay itself - that being the closest landmark to the coordinates we had, and likely an ideal place to land a plane. Of course, there was no guarantee that Muldoon would be within two hundred kilometers of the place when we got to the plane's last known coordinates, but it was all we had to go on.

The weather was crisp and dry, and I have to admit to a certain sense of exhilaration as we sped over the sea ice to our destination. Ray, too, seemed to be enjoying himself, despite the cold and the discomfort of the sled. He loved the speed and he'd told me how the space and the whiteness 'freaked him out'. I even dared to hope that he might one day consider joining me up here - if I ever got the blessed transfer I'd been seeking.

I drove the dogs hard but they worked willingly - they were fine animals and I was once again grateful to Quinn for entrusting them to me. Ray constantly scanned the scenery with binoculars, and kept the rifle at the ready but we saw no one. Finally, at five, we approached the fjord just as the sun was beginning to go down. The snow blazed gold and red in the sunset, but I could see at the point where the fjord met the sea ice, the marks of a plane having landed - and taken off. "This is it?" Ray asked.

"So it would seem." The landscape was empty - there were a few stunted trees here and there but no signs of human activity until....

A gunshot threw up powdery snow at my feet and I immediately swung the rifle around - Ray had already trained his towards the apparent source of the bullet but we could see nothing. Suddenly one of the dogs was felled in the traces. Two more died seconds later, leaving us three. We were totally exposed - we both tried to shelter behind the sled but as we moved behind it, Ray cried out, thrown backwards to the ground by the impact of a shot. I dragged him by his collar behind the sled. There was blood already starting to pour front and back from his shoulder - the bullet had passed straight through. I clamped my hands over the hole, while trying to see our attacker. There ... behind an outcrop. "Quite a choice you've got now, Benton." Muldoon. Now I could see him clearly. "Do you leave your little friend behind and come after me, or do you leave me and look after him? You Frasers were never much good at moral dilemmas."

"You're under arrest, Holloway Muldoon."

"I don't think so, Benton. Did your father ever tell you about how I shot your mother? She was a pretty woman but when I shot her, she dropped like a sack of potatoes - just like your friend there."

He was trying to bait me. "I'll hunt you to the ends of the earth, Muldoon."

"Then that'll make two members of your family I'll have killed. See you on the other side, Benton." He was on skis and moved off at speed onto the sea ice. There was nothing I could do and we appeared to be safe for now. I turned my attention to Ray. He had gone very pale and he was in pain, but conscious.

"You .... go get him, Fraser," he said in a whisper.

"Not in this lifetime, Ray. Can you lie still? I need to get the medical kit."

He gripped my arm with his good hand. "Don't want ... hold you back... gotta get..."

"Ray, lie still and stay quiet. You're losing a lot of blood. I have absolutely no intention of leaving you." He grimaced as his hand dropped away and his eyes closed. I got up to find the kit on the sled, and found my father watching me.

"He's right, Benton. You might have to leave him here. You only have this one chance to catch Muldoon."

"Do you ever listen to yourself, Dad? I am not leaving him or anyone else to die. Muldoon will have to wait."

"That's what he's counting on, Son," he said desperately. "This is for your mother, not just me."

"Dad - go away. Ray needs help."

I knelt by my injured partner - by now he'd passed out. I put dressings on his wounds over his clothes, and tied a temporary bandage to hold them in place. I needed to set up camp - the problem was whether we could risk it out in the open like this. Muldoon had chosen not to pick me off this time - but he might well return. I decided that I had to make some attempt to camouflage our position, so I loaded Ray onto the sled and walked him and our remaining dogs over to the edge of the fjord where I could dig us a snow shelter, and where we were far enough away from the dead animals to not attract predators. Muldoon had been devilishly clever - with only three animals the sled could not pull two men, and with Ray wounded, I had the choice of leaving him behind to get help, or staying with him. Fortunately, I knew something Muldoon did not - that Buck Frobisher was on the way with reinforcements and was probably at most a day behind me. All I had to do was keep Ray alive for that long.

The weather was deteriorating slightly, and becoming colder. A snow shelter would be warmer than a tent, especially as we might have to spend some time there. It was now dark and I had to work by lamplight, but fortunately I was well-equiped and the snow was deep and perfect for my purpose. Given the need for speed, I decided on a snow trench rather than a full fledged shelter which would take hours to make - I could enlarge it tomorrow if we needed it. The dogs would sleep outside in the snow and would be fine until morning. I dug a trench and got Ray and our essential supplies inside it, then fixed the tent fly sheet over it. It was immediately warmer for us out of the rising wind, if somewhat more cramped than the tent proper. I laid out our sleeping mats and bags down and got Ray inside as quickly as I could. I rested the lamp on a shelf I'd cut out of the snow and took my first good look at his injury. The dressings were already soaked and I decided the best thing to do was to add more to them and wait until the bleeding had stopped before attempting a more permanent dressing. He stirred as I was applying the new bandages, and called my name querulously, in pain and confusion. "Take it easy, Ray. We're safe."

"Did you get him?" he asked, trying to find me in the gloom. I'd taken his glasses off so I would have only been a blur anyway.

"Not yet. Rest. You've got a bad shoulder injury, so you have to stay still."

"Ben, you have to go get him. I promised I wouldn't hold you back." His voice was soft and weak. He'd lost a lot of blood.

"You aren't - it was my decision. Buck and the other Mounties will be here tomorrow. We'll get him then."

"What if it's too late?"

I noted his rising agitation and needed to soothe him for his own sake. "Calm down, Ray - every time you get upset, you bleed more. It doesn't matter. All I'm concerned about is you."

"Your mom."

"No, you, Ray. My mother is dead. She's not going to be any more dead if we wait to capture her killer."

"I'm sorry, Ben."

I bent and kissed his cold forehead. "Don't be. It isn't your fault." I covered him up and got some water boiling. He needed fluids and heat - he was already looking a little shocky, although the cold was the best thing to stop the bleeding. The shot had probably shattered his right shoulder - Muldoon was using a high-powered rifle, and it was fortunate that the bullet had not gone any closer to vital organs, because it would have killed Ray instantly. But then, it was hardly luck - Muldoon meant for Ray to be a burden, to slow me down. Killing him would have defeated his purpose.

I made some broth and propped him up to help him drink. He was only barely awake and swallowed the hot fluid with difficulty. "Are you in pain?" I asked. He nodded. We were carrying morphine ampoules and I knew this was the time for them - he had a lot to contend with, the cold, the blood loss, and the pain was a burden I could at least relieve. He sighed as I injected him and as I laid him flat, he was asleep - or unconscious - again in seconds. I left him alone as I made a hasty meal for myself - whatever my worries, I still had to make sure I looked after my own health. I checked his shoulder wound again when I finished eating, and I thought the bleeding was slowed sufficiently that I could risk changing the bandages. It meant undressing Ray partially, and I was thankful he was unaware of my manhandling. In the lamplight, the wound was ugly - a smallish entry wound, a large messy exit wound, well beyond anything I could do except to clean the skin, dress it and then immobilize his arm. I needed to get him to the hospital as soon as I could, but without a radio, and no fast transport, I had to wait for Buck.

I couldn't change Ray's bloodstained clothing without stripping him completely and the benefit didn't outweigh the loss of body heat he would experience. I got him in as comfortable position as I could and wrapped myself around him. As I settled down to sleep I saw my father watching me. I had nothing I wanted to say to him.

Ray stirred several times during the night, restless and uncomfortable but at least not in severe pain. His skin was warm enough and we seemed to have averted the shock he'd begun to suffer from. The next thing to worry about would be the risk of infection but I hoped he would be in a hospital by the time that posed a problem.

I woke and found that it was morning. Ray slept peacefully at last - his color was better than it had been and the dressings indicated that his wound had not begun to bleed again. I went outside and found it had snowed but the weather was now clear. I attended to a call of nature and fed and watered the dogs before going back inside to make our breakfast. I was reluctant to wake Ray but he did need liquids - I hoped he would be able to go back to sleep, that being about all he could do for now. I boiled up water for tea and made a heavily sugared cup for him - coffee was not a good idea in his condition. I shook him gently and called his name until he woke. Blue cloudy eyes looked in my direction before closing drowsily. "Come on, Ray, I need you to drink this."

"Don' wanna."

"You have to. You've lost too much blood. Drink it and you can go back to sleep."

I saw him force his eyes open, and I seized the opportunity to prop his head and shoulder up. He moaned. "Don't, Fraser, it hurts."

"I'm sorry. Here." I held the cup to his lips, and I was pleased that he took hold of it with his good hand and drank about half of it.

"No more." I let him rest before urging the rest of it on him and he finished it with a grimace.

"Are you hungry?"

He gave his head a little shake. "Tired. Cold. Want to sleep."

"It's okay, you do that. Where do you feel cold?"

"All over. Can you get back in with me?"

I really wanted to take a look outside but I thought that there was no harm waiting for a couple of hours. Buck couldn't be here at least until noon, and if I missed what Muldoon was up to, so be it. My duty was to my living partner before my dead parents. I hoped to be able to satisfy both. I crawled back under the cover of the sleeping bag. Now I could feel him shivering, and I was slightly worried. I felt his forehead and was alarmed to find that the healthy warmth I'd detected in the night seemed to have increased to a fever, as his body fought to repair the bullet's violation. I put my arms around him and tried to impart as much warmth as possible. He couldn't seem to drop off despite his tiredness. "Ben? You should've done what your dad wanted," he mumbled against my neck.

"You heard all that? I thought you were unconscious."

"Maybe. You have to get Muldoon."

"We will, don't fret, Ray. That's what he wants you to do. He's trying to make me feel torn between chasing him and looking after you. I won't let you do what he didn't succeed in doing."

I heard a little chuckle. "Stubborn Mountie."

"Yes. Why don't you sleep? We have to wait for Buck."

"Can't. Too cold and my shoulder hurts. Is it bad?"

"It's more than a scratch, but we'll get you to a hospital soon. You'll be fine."

"At least he shot my bad arm."

"Considerate of him, I agree."

"Quinn will be pissed about his dogs."

"It's a shame. I'm thankful Diefenbaker wasn't here." I felt him shiver again at the thought of us losing our canine friend. "Go to sleep," I said softly, kissing his forehead. "You need to rest."

He dropped off again eventually. I kept an eye on the time. I couldn't sleep, although for Ray's sake, I kept as still as I could. I would soon have to leave our shelter and go to the rendezvous point about two miles from where we were hiding. I didn't like to leave Ray but without contacting Buck, I couldn't get him out safely. At eleven, I had to start making arrangements for Ray to be left on his own for several hours. I boiled up water and filled two thermoses, one with sweet tea, the other with soup, and broke out chocolate and energy bars. I made a cup of broth and woke Ray again. He was definitely too warm, and hurting. I didn't think I could risk the morphine again while he was going to be on his own, so I fed him aspirin and hoped it would take the edge off the pain at least. He swallowed the soup without complaints. "You're leaving?"

"Just for a few hours, Ray. I need to go out and keep a watch for Buck and the others and meet them where we planned. If he doesn't come by nightfall, I'll return anyway - and if he does show up, I or someone else will come back and get you to safety. Now I'm leaving you with food and hot fluids - you _must_ try and eat and drink. I know it's difficult, but you have to try. Will you promise?"

"Yes, Ma. I've been shot before, Fraser, I know the drill."

"Well, I hardly think it was under quite these circumstances. I'll have to take the sled and the dogs. You stay in here - if you need to urinate, do it in here. I can always dig us another shelter but it's important you stay out of sight."

"What if something happens to you?" He was voicing my greatest fear - that Muldoon would shoot me and Ray would be left in this snow grave alone and with no one aware of his location. We had to face this possibility.

"I'm leaving you one of the rifles and the handgun. If no one comes back tonight, wait until morning, then fire the guns at thirty second intervals. Buck should be there by then, and someone will come and investigate." It was still highly risky, but we had so little choice. Buck would have dogs with him, he should find Ray if he heard the shooting. I hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"You better give me my glasses then."

I put them on his face. He struggled to sit up, and I helped him. He rested on my chest. "Ben - if ... I just wanted to say ...."

His eyes told me all I needed. "I know. I love you too. Now, lie down. Conserve your body heat." I kissed him. "Wish me luck."

He smiled at me. "That, you don't need."

He watched me climb out and then I shut the roof over him. I made sure the flysheet was as draught proofed as I could make it before harnessing up the dogs. I climbed to a vantage point some five hundred yards from the shelter and settled down with the binoculars to watch. I wasn't disappointed - I spotted Buck and his group in an hour. But there seemed to only be him, the inspector, Turnbull and his ten recruits - where were the reinforcements? I bit back a curse and got the dogs moving. With the smaller team, it took longer than I liked but I met up with them on the sea ice in twenty minutes. I quickly explained what had happened and that Muldoon was about. Buck told me that reinforcements were on their way by air. The inspector was glad to see me, I thought, but she had only a little to add to the information that we had - the deal was almost certainly to do with arms, and it was confirmed that the buyer was Cyrus Bolt, although the nature of the shipment was unknown. We moved our people towards the fjord where Ray and I had encountered Muldoon - the inspector thought he might have been defending a cache there. I was just debating with Buck and Turnbull what to do about Ray when we heard the ice cracking - not an unusual occurrence. The sound persisted however, and then the ice shattered under the force of an ascending Russian nuclear submarine. The conning tower rose twenty feet above the surface of the ice. Buck tossed me his revolver and I climbed the ladder and entered the sub. I could hear a gun battle commencing outside, and I only hoped the reinforcements were on their way.

Muldoon was there all right - I could have done with Ray's backup. He managed to evade me long enough to make a dash for it out of the submarine and to jump onto one of Mr. Bolt's abandoned ski mobiles. I barely registered that Buck's men had our criminal companions secured as I focused on Muldoon. I mounted a horse and pursued him through the trees on the edge of the fjord and actually managed to lasso him before we were unfortunately dragged into one of the many abandoned mine shafts that litter the Territories - the second time in my life that such a shaft played an important role. This time, I wasn't making the acquaintance of a beloved companion - I was facing an implacable enemy who had blighted my family for thirty years.

He was quickly on his feet and ready to confront me. "You don't quit, do you?" he snarled at me.

"I don't give up, ever." Especially not when you have just shot my lover, I thought. This man had harmed me and mine for the last time.

"Well, I guess I'll have to kill you with my bare hands."

To my shock, and his, my father materialized. "You're dead," Muldoon said in horror.

"How can he see you?" I said to my father.

"Because I want him to." He turned back to his old nemesis. "You cross a Mountie and he'll hunt you to the grave. He'll hunt you from beyond the grave." My father held a gun on the man who killed his wife, and this time, I knew the gun would do what he wanted. I couldn't allow it.

"Dad. Stop. This was wrong twenty nine years ago and it's wrong now. You've got a chance to do it right."

My father looked at me uncertainly. "You'll take him in?"

"You know I will."

He nodded. "There's just one thing." He turned and smartly clipped Muldoon in the jaw, a sight which gave me a remarkable amount of satisfaction and Dad, a sore hand.

Dad's form was shimmering. "You're fading," I said in alarm.

He looked at me sadly. "I've solved my last case."

My throat got tight as I realized what he meant. "I thought you were permanent."

"Nothing lasts forever, son. Isn't that what you told your partner? He's okay, by the way. I looked in on him for you." He had the grace to look slightly ashamed of himself.

"Thank you, Dad." I saw his eyes shift, then we both turned to see a lovely, red-haired woman whose sweet voice haunted my dreams, and whose eyes were the very image of love.

"Caroline," Dad said softly. She came to me and touched my face.

"Mom?" She looked at me kindly, but didn't speak. She only smiled at me as I felt the tears come unbidden to my eyes. She took my father's hand and the two of them walked away, hand in hand, and out of my life. I've never felt so alone.

I don't know how long I stood there, staring into the darkness, and it was as well that my father's last act had been to knock Muldoon down, because I would have been easy pickings. It was only Turnbull's shout that roused me, and then all was business - getting Muldoon up the shaft and secured, and me out afterwards. "Is everything all right, sir?" my young colleague asked me as I landed back topside, concern for me written all over his big honest face.

"Everything is in fact fine, Turnbull. Has someone called for a Medivac helicopter yet? I need to recover Ray."

Buck loaned me a fresh sled and team - the chopper was on its way and I had only to bring my wounded partner to the pick up point. It was mid afternoon - I had only left Ray for just over four hours, and I prayed he was all right. He was - wide awake and clearly worried to death about me. "I could hear the guns up here - are you okay? Did you get him?" He managed to sit up.

"Yes and yes. Are you all right?"

"I need to whizz but apart from that, yeah. Can we go home yet?"

"Yes, we can - or at least, we can get you to the hospital." I helped him out of the shelter and onto the sled. He was still slightly feverish, but I noted with approval that he had drunk most of the two thermoses of hot fluids and also had eaten some chocolate. I thought he looked a little better - the dressings still held and there was no fresh blood. I eased us down to the fjord carefully and there we waited for the helicopter. Turnbull was eager to regale him with tales of derring do, and Ray listened with admirable patience, even interest, expressing regret at missing all the excitement, his arm around an adoring Diefenbaker. Muldoon was shackled close by with Cyrus Bolt's men and he kept giving me and Ray the most murderous looks. I didn't care - he was on his way to prison, and my mother had at last been avenged in a way that served justice and her memory.

"Ben, what's wrong?" Ray had taken to calling me by my first name, and I had to admit I liked it a lot. Turnbull had wandered off to drink tea and swap tales with some of the recruits. Meg and Buck were huddled together discussing plans, and Ray and I were, temporarily, afforded some privacy.

"I saw my mother in the mine shaft, Ray."

"Get out - God, that must have been ...." He was going to say 'great' I could tell, but my face gave him warning. "She's gone for good?"

"So's my father."

He looked around then touched my face gently, briefly. "I'm sorry, Ben. But they're still here." He placed his hand over my heart. I covered his hand with mine.

"Yes. Yes, they are. Just as you are."

"But I'm not dead," he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

"No, you're not, not for the want of trying though. Ah. I hear the Medivac chopper."

He was loaded carefully onto the chopper, and I was allowed to go with him, with some of our gear. Once he had met up with the naval personnel who were flying in to secure the submarine, Buck would go back to Paulatuk with his trainees and return Quinn's sled and equipment, and the surviving dogs - I would have to make explanations to him later. The inspector and Turnbull would be flown to Inuvik by plane with the other officers - she would carry Diefenbaker with her, since he wasn't allowed on the helicopter. We would be reunited in Inuvik.

The flight took three hours. Ray was hooked up to drips and monitors and was in excellent hands, but I couldn't help worrying about him, especially when he lost consciousness again, although I was assured it was because of the pain relief he was being given. His blood pressure was strong, so they told me, and his temperature not cause for concern. I reflected on how much of my life I had sat by the beside of injured partners and friends, and thought how much I would give never to spend another second doing so. I also reflected on the fact that if Ray had not taken a bullet for me, I would be dead now - if Muldoon had not thought that it was more amusing to slow me down by shooting him, or if Ray had not been there, he would have shot me dead. I was now slightly appalled at the way I had strolled into the lion's den with a willing but scarcely well-defended pack and partner, and wondered, perhaps for the first time in my life, whether my risk taking days were coming to an end. I was beginning to value my own life a little more, if only because by not doing so, I placed my friends at risk. I also knew if I said any of this to Ray, he would deliver a tongue lashing of Biblical proportions, so I resolved to keep my counsel.

Ray was taken into surgery within twenty minutes of his arrival at the hospital in Inuvik. I was told it would be at least three hours before I could see him, so I decided to put the time to use and call Maggie, with whom I hoped I could stay while Ray was laid up. She was delighted to hear from me - she had been unaware of the drama unfolding so close to her, and told me she would come to the hospital to get all the details and to wait vigil with me. It was now dark - supper time in fact, although food was the least of my concerns. She bullied me into using the hospital canteen to eat, and got me to tell her all about the capture of Muldoon. I also told her about my last vision of my father and she laid a hand on my arm. "I'm sorry, Ben. At least you were able to see him again for a while after he died."

I wondered if I should tell her what an alloyed blessing that had been, and about Ray's experience with Stella, but thought it wasn't my story to tell. And it wasn't perhaps fair to color her perception of her father, of whom she had had so little experience, with my own embittered recollections of the last few days. Dad had been driven by demons and not entirely in his right mind, so I felt, in time, I would forgive him for trying to make me abandon Ray. I chose to ignore, for the sake of mental harmony, the fact that this hadn't been the first time he'd urged me to abandon my partner in the wilderness. Whatever the truth, Maggie and I were the only family each other had now. She asked me about Ray - I blushed to think how little I had told her about him when she was in Chicago. I had been blazingly jealous of Maggie's innocent interest in my good looking partner, and thrown completely off balance by my instinctual attraction to her, and the need to protect her. Now, of course, I knew that this was because of our genetic link, and that my feelings were brotherly, not romantic, but at the time, all I felt was a double threat to my relationship with Ray. She was entirely ignorant of my feelings in this regard, and of the true nature of my friendship with Ray.

I didn't know Maggie that well - would she be accepting of a homosexual brother? And there was also Ray's interest in her - had he been entirely joking about the two of them 'having something'? I had to admit his reaction to Stella's presence had disturbed me. I sighed and concentrated on what Maggie was telling me, about the practical details of my staying with her. I looked at my watch and reckoned Ray should be out of surgery and nearly ready for a visit so I suggested we returned to the reception area. Ray wasn't in fact quite ready, but shortly after a doctor came and explained that the surgery had gone well. His shoulder was badly damaged and would take a long time to heal, as well as requiring a good deal of physical therapy to repair the damaged muscles and recover the strength. I groaned inwardly at Ray's likely reaction to the news of yet another prolonged bout of recovery and therapy - he wasn't by any means the most patient of patients. We were told to wait half an hour while Ray was taken to a room, then we were directed to him. He was still asleep when we entered - a nurse was monitoring his blood pressure and vitals, and called his name to measure his response as we watched. His eyes flickered open, but closed almost as quickly. The nurse continued to try and wake him, eventually with some success. She ran through some questions, pronounced herself satisfied and left us with him with the strictest instructions to stay only ten minutes.

"Ben?" he said croakily. They'd taken his glasses away again.

I took his hand. "I'm here, Ray. How do you feel?"

"Um. Weird. Thirsty?"

Maggie poured out some water and held the straw up so he could drink. He was clearly puzzled as to who she was. "You remember my sister, Ray? Constable Mackenzie?"

He smiled uncertainly. "Yeah, I do. Hi, Maggie."

"Hello, Ray. I hear you've been poaching my criminals."

"It was Ben, I swear." His eyes were closing again. "Ben?" he whispered. I leaned in to hear him. "Love you," he said in the faintest of voices.

"And I you." Disregarding my sister's look, I dropped a kiss on his cheek. "Ray, they want you to rest now. I'm staying with Maggie but I'll be back in the morning."

" 'Kay." He smiled, but he was already falling asleep. I looked at the heart monitor showing a strong, steady beat and knew he would be fine. I didn't like leaving him, but the hospital here was somewhat more inflexible than the one in Chicago, and I wasn't be allowed to stay. I stroked his face, and then we left.

Maggie looked at me sympathetically as we walked to her Jeep. "He's not just your friend, I gather."

"No."

"I understand."

"He's very important to me, Maggie."

"I understand that, too, Ben. He'll be okay, don't worry."

There was a message on Maggie's door from her sergeant to say that Inspector Thatcher had arrived in town and was staying at a hotel. She would, the note said, appreciate someone collecting Diefenbaker that evening if possible, so we drove back into town and met the Inspector at the unfortunately entitled Eskimo Inn. She was relieved to see me, but wary of Maggie, who she clearly remembered with little fondness. Maggie wisely kept in the background as I explained Ray's condition, and that it would be at least two weeks before I would be able to return to duty.

"I think in the circumstances, Constable, it would be churlish to insist you remain on unpaid leave for this - so I have recorded you as being on duty."

"Thank you kindly, sir." I smiled at her gratefully.

The warmth of my thanks seemed to unman her. "Well, it's not every day I ... we ... bring an international arms smuggler to justice, Fraser. I think it's fair to say that you and I will be able to write our own tickets after this. We'll both be able to transfer home."

"Home, sir?"

"Yes, home, Fraser. Canada. I realize that means some godforsaken snow-covered wilderness to you, but for me it's Toronto. Of course, you could come - I mean, with me, as my second in command, if you wish." She was getting flustered.

"That's very kind of you, sir, but I need to take some time to consider."

"Take all you want, Fraser. I'll be here for a couple of days clearing up the Muldoon matter and then I'm flying back to Chicago. I take it that Mr. Kowalski won't be ready to travel by then."

"I doubt it, sir."

"Well, give him my regards. I, uh, might call in and visit." She blushed, and I recalled the few times she'd met Ray. He seemed to have a profoundly unnerving effect on her, which I could never really understand. But then the inspector was often an enigma to me.

Maggie drove us back once again to her house. "Will you come back to Canada, Ben?"

"I always wanted to. I wasn't in Chicago by choice, you know."

"And Ray?"

My lack of response was answer enough for her. I didn't know about Ray.

 

* * *

Whatever painkillers they gave me knocked me out faster than George Forman and I slept through until morning. I don't remember a whole lot after being loaded up on that big chopper - some of the ride, and I think I woke up for a minute or two as they carried me into the ER. I seemed to remember Ben being there after surgery - was Maggie there? I tried to think. I was in Inuvik, they said, so yeah, she would be there. Ben turned up as breakfast was served, and helped me eat, sitting on the bed next to me, cutting up my eggs and buttering the toast. I wasn't feeling that hungry - to tell the absolute truth, I was feeling queasy like I always did after surgery - but he made me feel a lot better. I was just fucking glad to be alive. Lying in that goddamn trench he'd dug - a snow grave, he'd actually called it, not that I wanted to know that - and hearing the gunfire, I didn't know if I was more worried about him or about me. I was practically pissing myself with fear and when he lifted up the tarp and stared in at me, I don't think I've ever seen a better sight.

I pushed the tray away. "No more. I'll be sick."

"Are you not feeling well, Ray?" I stared at him, looked at the sling and he grinned. "You're saying that is a stupid question, correct?"

"Yeah, Ben. Was Maggie here last night?"

"Yes, she was, briefly. Do you remember I'm staying with her?"

I nodded. "You told her about your Dad?"

"Yes. There's a lot of things I have to tell her about."

"And about us?"

He looked uncomfortable. "I, ah, made it clear what my feelings are about you, yes. Do you mind?"

"Why would I mind, Ben?" I squirmed. The painkillers were wearing off and the bed was hard. I felt like I could go back to sleep, but I didn't want to, not just yet.

He took my hand. "You indicated you might be interested in her. Now she thinks you wouldn't be, because of our, uh, relationship."

"Well, she'd be right." I didn't really know what the problem was, but I obviously said the right thing because he smiled, and snuck a kiss before the orderly came in to take the tray.

He stayed by my side the rest of the day, even when I was snoozing. I was worried that no one had called Beth for me, but he said he would ask Maggie to email her from work. We talked about the capture of Muldoon, and he told me more about the Bolt brothers. He was sure it was Cyrus Bolt who'd identified us to Muldoon, since Muldoon wouldn't have actually remembered a six year old boy as the adult Mountie who'd come after him. "And we still don't know why he killed your Mom?"

Ben shook his head. "No. And unhappily he won't be prosecuted for her murder either, although he will face charges for the murder of the six dead men, as well as for illegal arms dealing and a host of other matters."

"That bothers you, doesn't it."

"Some."

"Ben, I'm sorry - you were right, I held you back. I should've let you go on your own."

He took my hand and squeezed it tight. "No, Ray. You saved my life. Muldoon would have killed me outright if you weren't there. It is I who should apologize for endangering you."

"You gave up the chance to catch him to stay with me." He looked at me with love in his eyes, and I knew then that the feelings he had for me ran much deeper than I thought they did. Just like mine. I kissed his hand, and laid my cheek on it.

Maggie dropped by to pick Ben up at five - I was tired and visiting hours were nearly done. He was in two minds about leaving, but I shooed him off. I was going to be here a week, they said, and I didn't want him wearing himself out. He promised to be back for breakfast, and so he was.

The week was tedious. Ben's boss dropped in - I could never figure that woman out, whether she hated or liked Ben. She was pretty full of herself over the Muldoon thing - she saw her career taking off like a rocket over it. She also let slip that Ben would now have his choice of transfers - a little something my pal had forgotten to mention, and from the look on his face, I could tell that wasn't an accident. After Thatcher sashayed out, I called him on it. "You can go home?"

"It's an option, yes."

"So, I guess I'll be renting your room out after all," I said, trying to make a joke, but it fell flat.

"I ... I haven't decided what to do, Ray." He started fiddling with his Stetson like he always does when he's nervous.

"Fraser, it's a no brainer. You're a Canadian, you move back to Canada. End of story."

He looked at me with a strange expression on his face. "You were calling me Ben up to now. Now I'm 'Fraser' again."

"Ben, Fraser - what's the diff?"

"The difference is that you were beginning to drop your barriers and accept us as a couple. Now you've raised them again and are detaching from me."

"So what? Fra ... Ben - we both know there's no future in this. You belong up here, I got a business in Chicago..."

"And you want to get married again," he said tightly.

"Maybe - if the right person comes along. I can't marry you, you know that. Fact of life."

His face kind of closed off when I said that, but his voice was polite. "Perhaps you're right, Ray. But in any event, I haven't made a decision. I'll let you know when I have."

We didn't talk about it again that week. I thought about it a lot, but I was afraid to mention it, in case it made him jump off the cliff. I thought about what he said, about me being married again - which I guess meant he thought I wanted to be with a woman again. To be honest, I didn't know what the hell I wanted, but I was starting to get the same feeling I had when things went bad with Stella, and I didn't know what to do. He hadn't asked me if _I_ wanted to move to Canada, and he hadn't said anything when I said I had a business in Chicago, so I figured he wasn't going to try and talk me into it. But then he was miffed when I started calling him Fraser again. I'd never figure this guy out. Being injured and in pain, and still trying to work out how I felt about what I'd learned about Stella on the trip, I just wanted to go home and have a week or two of peace, with no freaking out lover, or fights or hassle. I was just tired, I guess.

Exactly a week after I was admitted, I was able to leave, and Maggie drove us both straight to the airport for the 1.30 flight She shook my hand politely and gave Ben a tidy Mountie hug and then we were on our way home. We had to spend another night in Edmonton, in the same hotel as before. I was too tired to stay awake long enough for Fraser to give me a massage - I was too tired to stay awake to eat supper. I slept right through until six thirty but I was sore as hell from the bed, and by the time we got to O'Hare at 1.00, I was ready to start chewing the scenery. Airplane seats and shoulder wounds - not a good mix. The only good thing was that we didn't have to fight for a taxi - Ray Vecchio was there to meet us. I figured he'd be pissed off that he'd missed out on all the excitement, and he made out like he was, but I got the impression he wasn't _that_ sorry to have avoided having to follow Fraser up to the big freezer. He was pretty good to me as well, driving as slow as he could and avoiding the bumps. When we got back to the apartment, we found he'd stocked the fridge with his mother's wonderful cooking which was something nice to come home to. He could see I was shattered - he and Fraser got me tucked up on the sofa with something hot to drink and I heard them talking quietly in the kitchen as I concentrated on not dropping my mug. Then I heard the door close. Fraser came and sat next to me on the sofa and took the cup out of my hands. "Bed, I think."

"Don't wanna move," I said, sinking down further.

"Ray, you'll regret it later." I just shut my eyes and ignored him, wishing for once in his life he wouldn't be such a goody two shoes. Then I was being lifted up in his arms and carried like a kid. I was too surprised to do more than squawk at him.

"Fuck it, Ben," I slurred, already starting to pass out as I hit my pillow - hello, pillow, I missed you.

He didn't say anything. I felt him undressing me, taking off shoes and sliding off my jeans before covering me up in a million blankets. I'd been complaining about the cold ever since I woke up in the hospital. He disappeared and I was nearly fast asleep when he came back in. He slid a hot water bottle against my side, which felt great, and then shook me until I took the antibiotics and pain medication. Then he left me alone. I guess he must have woken me up for the next dose of pills but I didn't remember anything else until the next morning.

I was stiff as hell when I woke up, but I felt better just for being home. I was a little confused about where I was - I'd slept in some strange places over the last three weeks. Then I looked and saw Ben's dark head resting on his arm, his face innocent in sleep, and knew where I was. I let myself enjoy a little self-pity at the idea of him going back to Canada without me, but the idea of him _not_ going back was ridiculous. He had to go home. It was all he'd wanted for four years, and it was killing him being down here. I'd miss him, but I'd get over it. That's what I told myself.

He woke up a few minutes after I did and kissed me gently and gave me a careful cuddle around all the bandages. He was all for making me breakfast in bed but I said I'd had enough of that shit in Inuvik. I let him run me a bath and help me out there, but I told him I'd be going back to work the next day. There was nothing wrong with my legs or my brain, and I'd left Beth on her own long enough. He gave up arguing with me - I think he figured my body would let me down. I took it easy that day and swallowed all the damn pills I was supposed to. I insisted he had to go back to work so he called the Inspector and let her know. I think he was a little pissed with me, because he didn't talk to me much that day, although he ran around after me whenever I let him. I went to bed early and didn't hear him come in. He was gone when I woke up and he'd taken Dief with him, so I figured he realized I was serious about going in.

I was. I called a cab and made it to the office, although I think I must have looked as bad as I felt when I staggered in because Beth looked horrified and practically carried me from the door to the desk. I let her cluck and fuss - she had to get it out of her system. She wasn't really the motherly type so I knew she'd drop it eventually, and she did. Then I could tell her what happened up north, and how long I was going to be out of action. We needed to rearrange a few things, and I was going to have to stick to the office for a while which would be fine except that with just the one hand and arm working, using the computers was going to be slow. We'd manage - it wasn't like we were swamped with work. Beth suggested we think about using some freelance investigators and I said we should at least put some feelers out. It felt good to be talking to her - here, I was my own boss, I knew what I was doing. Up in Canada, I felt like I was in a daze all the time. I loved it, but I didn't know what I was doing at all.

Fraser called me at lunch to see how I was - he wasn't being overbearing which was good. I admitted things were tough going, and he told me Vecchio was offering to give us both a lift home, which I accepted. To tell the truth, I was in a lot more pain than I was letting on to Beth, and I didn't want to take the painkillers with her around because they knocked me out. Fraser frowned at me when he came in to the office to collect me, but he didn't say anything until we got to Vecchio's car. Vecchio took one look at me and said to Fraser, "You were right, Benny. The dumb schmuck is overdoing it."

"I'm right here, Vecchio and my hearing's fine. You know, I got a job to do, just like you guys."

"But _unlike_ us, Kowalski, you've got a fucking hole in your shoulder. Look, kid, I've been shot in exactly the same place, and I know it hurts. Why are you doing this to us?"

"To you? I'm doing nothing to you."

"Just worrying us into an early grave. That's Fraser's job, or hadn't you noticed?"

"Just drive, Vecchio." Terrific - now I had two nursemaids.

Vecchio invited himself in for supper, which was fair enough since it was food he'd provided from his mom. Fraser hadn't worked with him that day since he had so much Consulate work to catch up on, so this was his first real chance to tell Vecchio what had happened. Vecchio was impressed - he couldn't believe Muldoon shot me and the dogs just to slow Fraser down. "What a mean motherfucker - it's a damn shame you don't have the death penalty in Canada."

Fraser didn't say anything, but he looked at me, and I knew he was thinking about the fact his dad had tried - and failed - to dispense a little rough justice of his own. "I think the bastard being in jail for the rest of his miserable life is pretty sweet, Vecchio," I said.

"Yeah. Maybe. So, Benny, what's the word on you transferring back home?"

I faked a yawn. "Sorry, guys. It's been a long day. No, don't get up," I said to Fraser. Vecchio looked as if he was taking his cue to go, which wasn't what I planned. "I'll see you tomorrow, Fraser. Thanks for the food and the lift, Vecchio."

"You're going into work, tomorrow, Kowalski?"

"Yep." Vecchio shook his head and grinned, but didn't say anything else.

I wasn't really that tired, but I knew if I had to listen to the two of them talking about Fraser moving home, I'd let things slip I shouldn't. Damn, I'd forgotten to take the pain pills. Comfortable as my bed was, it couldn't make up for the ache from the hole and the healing bone, and I needed one of Ben's massages again. I lay as still as I could which was the only way not to set everything off hurting again. I was surprised when I heard the front door open and shut just half an hour later, and Fraser came in with the medication. "You forgot these," he said softly.

"I know. Thanks." He fed them to me. "Vecchio left early?"

"I asked him to. I knew you needed the pills, and I suspect you need a rub too."

The man must have been psychic. He went off to have a shower which gave the pills a chance to work, then returned with the massage oil which he'd warmed up in the microwave. He started to work on me in silence - he seemed to know exactly where the sore muscles were. Definitely had magic hands. I felt like all we ever did lately was cuddle or kiss or look after each other - we hadn't had sex for weeks, and with the way the pain pills made me feel, it was going to be a while. "Ben, can I ask you something?"

"Of course." He kept on with the massage, never missing a beat.

"Do you wish we made love more often?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation. His hands stilled and then he put them, warm and soft from the oil, on the sides of my face. "I want you all the time, Ray. It scares me a little how much I want you."

"Maybe when I get rid of all these bandages we should work on that, huh?"

"That sounds like an excellent idea." He kissed me, long and lingeringly, and then we went back to rubbing me, moving slowly down my body.

"Don't think there's a lot of tension there, buddy," I joked as he started rubbing around my groin, and moving his hand on my limp dick. Not that I minded, but between the pain and the pain pills, nothing was going to happen, I knew that.

"I'm just indulging myself. Does that bother you?"

"You like playing with me?"

"Of course I do. You have a very attractive body, and I like to touch you, to look at you." As he spoke softly, he was showing me with his hands how much he meant what he said. Like always, he was turning me into a puddle. His firm, strong hands stroked down my inner thighs and up, cupping my butt. I lifted my legs a little and he oiled the underside of my legs. By instinct, I spread them a little and his hands went still. "Ray....?"

"Do you want to?" I asked softly. He was turning me on, even if my dick wasn't showing signs of it. But we'd never done this. I hadn't done this in, oh God, twenty years or more. I wasn't sure Fraser had ever pitched or caught before, but he hadn't run at the idea, at least.

"Your shoulder." But even though his face was uncertain, his hands were back, stroking, oiling, moving towards my cleft, making me tingle.

"We can try if you want. No pressure, Ben."

He nodded and seemed to be working a few things out. Then he raised my knees and knelt between my legs. I could see he was hard. Seeing that, I got a little nervous, not that I could tell him. He was _big_ \- a lot different from the teenagers I'd fooled around with when I was a kid. It would hurt, I knew that. Oh, hell, Kowalski, I thought, can't be worse than being shot, which almost made me giggle. And that I definitely had to step on, or he'd know I was whacky from the pills.

He was rubbing one hand in the gentlest of circles on my stomach and one finger of the other hand was probing delicately, stroking lightly over my hole and behind my balls. It almost tickled, and was about the sexiest thing I could remember feeling. I couldn't help wriggling and he stopped, which wasn't the idea. "Jeez, Ben - don't stop, that feels good."

"Oh." He grinned and started again, and I tried to keep still. The only part of him I could reach was his face, and he moved into my hand as I touched his cheek. He was so into this. It was like I was his God, and he was praying.

Now he pushed in a little with his finger and I tried to relax. He gave me a minute, which helped, and then he moved in a little more, gently but steadily. He took his time, but then I knew that was definitely a Fraser thing - patience. It wasn't mine, for sure. He found the prostate right off the mark, so I guess that was something else he was naturally good at. When I saw his face when he saw _my_ face, I knew he'd never done this before with a guy - I didn't have the nerve to ask if he'd done it with a woman. It was nice to give him something new, and it sure didn't do me any harm.

He was turning me on, but because he was taking so long, I was starting to drift off - it was kind of like being massaged from the inside out, if that isn't a gross thing to say. He startled me when he asked if I had any condoms, and I had to wake up my remaining brain cell to remember exactly where and if I had any. "Um. Bathroom? No - hang on, there might be one in the night stand." He looked at me funny and I remembered he'd been using that nightstand himself, but I told him to reach all the way back, and bingo! one lonely johnnie, just within its use by date.

He hesitated before he put it on. "Ray - are you sure? You aren't in too much pain?"

"Not feeling any pain at the moment, Ben. You're better than that morphine." He gave me the most beautiful smile, and I felt a little sad that this was probably the biggest compliment he'd had about his technique. I made a mental note to do something about that.

He rubbered up and then put some of his massage oil on his dick - thankfully he went in for natural products so it was vegetable not mineral based, and thankfully he was in charge of buying stuff like that because no way would I remember the diff. I got him to move up so I could easily reach him, and stroked him a few times and played with his balls. I didn't want this to be completely one-sided but he pushed me back after less than a minute. "Ray, ah... " I got it. I relaxed. He went back to playing with me again, and the way his fingers went in so smooth, I knew I was ready. So did he. "I'm going to roll you on your good side, all right?" He turned me carefully and got me so I was almost, but not quite laying flat, with no pressure on my sore shoulder. Then he used his fingers again, before I felt something bigger, blunter. Scary. "I'm good, Ben."

"All right." Ah, jeezus - that ... didn't hurt half as much ... actually that was ... oooh, yeah. Gentle slow slide in, out, in, hitting the sweet spot. Man, he had some control. I realized there just was no comparison between a mature, well-read Mountie, and a horny, semi-virginal eighteen year old and I wondered why the hell we'd waited months to do this.

He thrust over and over and despite the painkillers, I was getting a little hard, not very, but enough to show him I liked what he was doing. Actually, I think he probably got that from the sounds I was making and the way I was egging him on, but he wasn't going to rush, or push too hard, or do anything to move me around the bed. I never guessed you could fuck someone like they were made of spun glass, but that's what Fraser was doing. I promised myself a wild ride some other time, but this was good, this was better than good. He felt underneath me and got his hands around my dick, and damn, that felt good, pressure and friction and slickness. I could put up with that for a looong time. But even good little Mounties have to finish some time, and he did with a soft groan and final hard thrust _right_ on the magic spot which would have made me come too if I was able to get with the program. He pulled out gently, the rubber off and disposed of discreetly in some hyperefficient secret Mountie way, then he crawled up beside me so I could thank him with my mouth.

"We have _got_ to do that again, Ben." He smiled.

"I don't think I can think of the slightest objection to that idea, Ray." He went to sleep right there, no clean up, just the sheets and blankets pulled up haphazardly, looking well and truly fucked. And me, I felt juuust fine.

 

* * *

Two weeks later he was gone. Completely. Nothing left in my apartment except the tidy bathroom cabinet, suspiciously clean floors and a book of poetry he'd given me for Christmas. We're not talking an alien abduction here, or even a 'I'm leaving, never want to see your ugly face again' type of disappearance. No, this was a 'Sergeant in Paulatuk (of all places) has had a heart attack, we're short staffed, we want you to transfer, Constable, and you're needed _now'_ thing. He gave me the news when he got home, practically twisting the Stetson in a knot as he told me, his eyes miserable, thinking I was going to be upset. Well, I was, but I didn't let _him_ know that, did I? "It's what you've been hoping for, Ben. It's great."

"It's my duty, Ray," he said sadly.

"Yeah, I get that, but it's also where you wanted to go. And you'll be with Quinn, and see Maggie, and Buck. Better than Toronto."

He nodded, and gave me a hug. But he never asked me if I wanted to go with him. Not then, not as he packed, not as we discussed where I should send on mail, and not that morning as he shouldered his pack ready to get the taxi to the airport. I couldn't drive him myself - I was still tied up in a sling. He hadn't made love to me once since that night he first took me, and the last night he was there, he just held me and kissed me, but didn't say anything. I put my feelings on ice - I couldn't let myself go, not while he was still around. I made out it was a good thing for him, and it was. I knew right from the start this was where it was going - not like with me and Stella when we thought it was forever - so I had no right to complain. Vecchio wept and wailed more than me, took 'Benny' out for a night in a bar which ended up with Fraser driving him home, drunk as a skunk, and then coming back to me smelling of other people's beer, cigarettes and puke - Vecchio had lost his load when they got back to his house. But me, I was good, I was strong for him because he needed it, and if I let myself feel for one second, I was going to fall apart.

He stood at the door. "This is it, Ray."

"Yep. Have a good flight, let me know how you settle in."

He looked at me with eyes that were deep and dark, more like an animal's than a man's. He reached out and touched my cheek - fuck, I thought I was going to lose it then. "Good-bye, Ray."

"Bye, Ben." I didn't let myself touch him, or move. He took his hand away and then he turned and left.

I was still sitting on the sofa an hour later when Beth let herself in with her spare key, come to give me a lift as she had been doing. "Ray? What's wrong?"

"Fraser left this morning."

She didn't think it was any big deal - she didn't know about us. "Oh, was it this morning? I thought it was another couple of days before he went. Well, I hope he likes it back home. Are you coming in?"

I closed my eyes, remembering that last, gentle touch. Then all of a sudden Beth's arm was across my shoulders and I was trembling, and there were tears running down my face. "Oh, Ray, honey, what's wrong?" she said quietly.

"I love him, Beth," I whispered. She took my head against her shoulder and let me cry, holding my hand while I grieved for the loss of someone else I loved. And this time, he wasn't even going to be watching over me, invisibly or not.

 

* * *

I got over it, of course. You can't cry forever, and it wasn't like I was a stranger to this pain game. No, it was like the fucking shoulder wound. It hurt like hell, it left a horrible scar and the ache never left. But I could survive it, like I survived Stella dying, and the bomb and Muldoon's bullet. Beth was good. We didn't talk about it after that last painful day, but it was the way she didn't talk about it, the way she made it clear she understood and sympathized, that was like aloe on a burn. The work was just busy enough to keep my mind occupied, although I still couldn't go out in the field - not being able to drive was putting a serious crimp in things. No, work was good.

Coming home wasn't. It wasn't just him not being there, although every night I slept alone, it cut like a knife knowing I would wake up on my own. It was stupid things like his toothbrush being gone, and it still looking wrong after three months that it wasn't there. Going shopping and remembering not to buy dog food, or tea. Having absolutely no one give the slightest shit whether the dishes got done or not. Vecchio came over a few times, more for him than for me. I liked the guy, but Fraser was the connection, and he was so full of self-pity that I wanted to scream at him sometimes that he'd just lost a friend, I'd lost a lover.

Fraser emailed me once a week or so, when he wasn't out on patrol or in Inuvik or elsewhere, which actually was a lot of the time. He never had much news, although he was good at telling the non-news in an interesting way. Never said anything personal like 'I miss you' or, 'hope you're bearing up okay'. I couldn't tell at all whether he was happy or not, he didn't give any clues. I could've called him, I suppose, but I refused to. I wasn't going to get into the way I was with Stella. The thing was over, it had run its course, time for both of us to move on. Yeah. Right.

Spring became summer and Chicago in a heat wave was so unlike Canada, I didn't know how Fraser had stood it for four years. Vecchio had stopped coming around finally, and work had got busy enough that we finally hired our first staff, and a clerk. I was healed up completely, even finished the damn therapy like a good little boy scout, and Beth and me were both out in the field nearly all day every day, sometimes together, sometimes apart. She'd started dating on the quiet, and I got the impression one of her dates was more than a casual interest for her. I was glad, she deserved a little happiness, and I swore if this guy or any other looked like he was doing a Jake Botrelle on her, I'd break his arms.

I wasn't dating. I wasn't even jerking off. Sex and me were strangers. I hadn't felt this libido-free even when Stella left me - then I was desperate, I'd have humped a knot in wood if I couldn't jerk off. But now. Nothing. I couldn't let myself, because then it would be Ben, and nothing else, and I didn't want to wake everything up again. I wanted to shut down, freeze. I didn't want to feel. It just hurt too much.

By October, Beth was seeing someone semi-seriously and the business was now a five person team. The more people we hired, the more business we got, and we even started to think about another office in Detroit. I was over at Beth's for dinner once or twice a week, going over business plans and talking about cases. We wanted to hire some more ex-cops and that night, over the meal, we'd been talking about putting feelers out at my old precinct and at the 27th for cops thinking of retiring. I told her that Ray Vecchio had jokingly said he might want a job when he got tired of being a cop, and she not so jokingly told me that he'd be the sort of person we might like to recruit. I disagreed - too abrasive, I told her. She looked at me and smiled, and I knew what she was thinking. I made a mental note to ask Vecchio about it sometime.

We relaxed with a glass of wine after we ate - I never worried if I drank too much, I'd often slept in her spare room rather than haul ass across town, and I kept a change of clothes at her place.

"So how are you doing, Ray?" she asked, and I knew she wasn't talking about my shoulder.

"I'm good, Beth, you know me."

"Yes, I do, and I don't think you're being entirely honest."

I shrugged. "What's there to say? He's up there, I'm down here. End of story."

"You never asked him to stay."

"He never asked me to go."

"Why didn't you ask him if he wanted to stay?"

"Aw, come on, Beth, you saw him. You think he was meant to live here? You should've seen him in Canada. It was like he grew a foot and sprouted wings. I knew he had to go home."

"Maybe he felt the same about you leaving Chicago."

"Maybe." I stared into my glass. I didn't want to talk about this any more, but she put her hand on my wrist.

"Ray - you know I owe you a great deal ..."

"You don't owe me _nothing,_ Beth," I said angrily.

"I owe you my _life,_ Ray Kowalski," she said firmly, "and as your friend and as someone who does owe you, I'm telling you - you need to go and see him."

"What if he doesn't want me any more?" God, how pathetic.

She thought so too. "Do you really think he'd reject you? Be honest with me."

"It's too late, Beth. It's over. Things end, you know that."

"Ray, it's only over if you say it is. This isn't like Stella, or Jake - Ben's alive, and he loves you and I bet he misses you as much as you miss him. You and I both know you don't need to be here. You don't need the business or the money."

"Trying a corporate takeover on me, Mrs. Botrelle?"

"Of course, Officer Kowalski." She looked at me over the rim of her wineglass. "You know I'm right."

Yeah, I did. Which is how I found myself making the two day journey to Paulatuk all over again, and sleeping on Quinn's floor with his three nephews and great aunt who couldn't make it up the stairs any more, waiting for Ben to come back off patrol. Quinn didn't seem surprised to see me, but then he'd made the 'stone face native' thing a bit of a trade mark. He didn't tell me anything about how Ben was doing but he did tell me a few tales out of school about when Ben was a young fool like the rest of us.

I stayed with Quinn for three days, and I was getting more and more nervous. What if Ben turned his back on me? He'd been up here six months, he must have settled in by now. Quinn kept me busy working with the dogs - said it was only fair I helped him train the replacements for the dogs we got killed. That, I enjoyed, and I loved the scenery - it was pretty wild, that's for sure. I was a rarity up here, being Caucasian, but the kids took to me and dragged me all around the place showing me things. And then the day came when he was due to return. Ben had his own little RCMP house but he ate with Quinn most of the time, and Quinn's wife looked after his house when he was away, so we knew he'd be calling in some time. I was out in front when he turned up. Dief saw me first and bounded over, knocked me flat on my ass. It was just like the day I met Fraser, with him apologizing for Dief and hauling me off, and me not minding a bit, thinking what a fantastic looking owner that dog ... wolf, had. Fraser put out his hand and hauled me up.

"Ask me to stay," I said.

"Ray, would you ...?" He stopped when he saw my face. Wrong question. Smart guy. "Please stay."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes. I do. Forever and ever amen. Kiss me."

He did, to the amusement of several junior Quinns and Mrs. Quinn. He put his hands on the sides of my head, and held me while he looked at me. Maybe he was trying to figure out if I was real. "You're planning to stay in Paulatuk?"

"Wherever. Wherever you are. Life's no good where you aren't, Ben."

"Ah, I see. I, uh, had already worked that out before I left Chicago - about you, I mean."

"But you left," I said, confused.

"You didn't ask me to stay."

"Ben, I think we couldn't boil water with our collective IQs, you know that?"

"You could be right. Come home, Ray Kowalski."

"I already did, Benton Fraser."

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written nearly twenty years ago under another pseudonym. It hasn't been revised (or reread by me) since then.
> 
> I am posting this and my other stories from this period purely so people can read them if they choose. I won't be reading comments, and don't care if you leave kudos. I'm dumping them and running.
> 
> Having said that, I worked hard on them, and I hope they still entertain someone out there.


End file.
